


and they weep for the angels (to save them)

by starrytulips



Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Tragedy, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Dancing, M/M, Royalty, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:40:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23022631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrytulips/pseuds/starrytulips
Summary: summer melts into autumn and they dance underneath the stars for all to see.but, please, don't pay any attention to the screams in the background.
Relationships: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16
Collections: Winwin Fic Fest Round 1





	1. what fools we are

lanterns dot along the path, illuminating the way to the heart of the city where excited murmurs and anxious hearts await the sunset. where everything is hushed to welcome the nighttime. footsteps clatter against the cobblestone, gathering the attention of all who has ventured out of their humble cottages.

hearts skip at the sight of the crown prince escorted by his cavaliers. gold glitters off his violet cape as he descends from his horse, a poised smile graced along his lips. his steps are careful, his nods acknowledging each and every person bowing as he passes. in the waning sunlight, burning along the horizon, he’s dazzling as if he captures the very stars appearing in the darkening skies.

there’s a seat reserved for him. front and center before the handmade stage. red curtains flutter in the breeze that’s a kiss of autumn but still warm enough for summer to make a quiet presence. the performance of the night happens four times out of the year. once at every turn of the season. a tradition that has been branded since the beginning of the city’s time. 

a sound ever so quiet rings through the air. a violin some presume. silence settles upon everyone’s chests, halting their breaths in anticipation. the flames of the lanterns vanish one by one, slow at first and with each passing second, they disappear faster and faster until a grand wind sweeps through the audience and the curtains are blown to the side, revealing a lone figure.

light engulfs him and he opens his eyes, stretching his arm out to someone off-stage. 

and then the violins ease in, flowing along the dancer’s limbs, fingers poised. he beckons with eyes. soft smile flickers in the shadows created by the tilt of his head. a hand soon meets his, mirroring the grace in every slight movement the dancer makes. raw emotions glisten in their eyes––

love blooms in the longing stares, the lingering touches of their trembling fingers. but it’s brief with hearts shattering at the screech of a violin. sorrow drags their feet against the wooden floor. pain clutches at their chests, sharp elbows slashing through the strained air. 

heaving chests rise and fall with defeat and knees collide with the ground in acceptance. 

the story is abstract. hard to follow but the audience watches, gasps and doesn’t dare to breathe or to utter a single word throughout the whole performance. some are crying and they do not know why. with faces streaked wet, they clap, hands raised high in the night air. the crown prince is the first to rise from his seat, gracing the dancers with a standing ovation.

a halo of light falls upon the dancers as they step forward, center of the stage, hands tightly clasped together. their gaze skims the audience, each person standing up for them, cheering and screaming at the top of their lungs. and sicheng thinks–– _for what?_ for a performance that rips emotions out of humans, reduces them to tears and leaves them feeling torn?

air tickles at his palm, the warmth against it already gone. sicheng tilts his head and he tries not to stare. he really does, but try as he might, his gaze follows the other. sweat gleams off of ten and he shines in the nighttime, a beacon of energy and unbridled passion. he’s not smiling. neither is sicheng. there’s no happiness at their fingertips.

something tickles his cheek. he blinks, catches the flower in his empty hand and watches as the petals wilt, falling gracefully to the ground. once upon a time, he’s been bold enough to tuck it behind ten’s ear. fix his hair to frame it prettily because ten’s so pretty, he makes sicheng’s heart ache.

even now.

_who was your first love?_

his first love is adorned with a ruby red ribbon, tied around his wrist. knotted so it'll never fall. 

“prince,” slips from ten’s lips as a flower appears in front of him. at the end of the green stem, a white glove, stitched with gold of the royals. the crown prince smiles, famed dimples appearing. the frayed ends of the ribbon sways when ten reaches up, unable to reject the flower offered to him. 

sicheng leaves the stage. exits to the right, down the rickety stairs of the makeshift stage and heads straight to the circle of caravans.

light flickers from the bonfire. cheers greet him as he nears and a glass of beer finds its way into his hands. someone drapes their arm around sicheng’s shoulders and he stares at the golden liquid in the glass. the night is young, he thinks, and he downs the burn of the beer in two gulps. 

it settles in the pits of his stomach. mingles with the lingering feelings of a sore heart and he searches for another drink, forcing a celebratory smile to the point his cheeks are hurting. yuta appears in front of him, quenches his thirst for more alcohol, and stays by his side until sicheng’s world is spinning.

sicheng loses count on how many gulps he’s taken. the alcohol no longer burns and he’s already forgotten why he needs to fake a smile when his heart’s not in it. he’s dangerously close to the fire. he hears it crackling, the flames beckoning him closer with its warmth.

someone yanks him back and he’s stumbling, embarrassingly unstable on his feet, backwards into someone’s chest. 

“what are you doing? that’s dangerous,” hisses in his ear. 

the voice brings him slamming back to reality and he’s tugging his arm away. he doesn’t mean to flinch. but if they’re not on the stage, he does not want to be anywhere near ten and yet, here he is, too close for his own heart’s comfort.

“it’s none of your business.”

ten eyes him. something flickers in his gaze. pity? guilt? slim fingers reach out. they hover over his cheek and the ghost of loving touches is too much for sicheng to handle. he doesn’t mean to. he really doesn’t, but he slaps ten’s hand away before it can touch him.

sicheng needs to leave. he trips over something in the grass in his haste and it sends him falling, arms braced for impact and eyes squeezed shut. welcoming the pain. 

and when sicheng opens his eyes, he’s back home in his dorm with the sun so bright, it burns.


	2. to build a bridge and drown it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pardon the mess we've made of hearts and tears.

“hi.” breathless, whispered against his ear as ten settles into the rickety chair next to him, arm pressed close. his hair’s ruffled from his pillow and waking up only fifteen minutes ago despite their class starting right at the moment. the professor sends a disproving look towards their way and ten shoots him a smile, knowing very well nobody could touch him.

ten and sicheng’s names are bolded on the chalkboard under the dancers’ main coterie. they’re the newest additions––prodigies some call them. they’ve grown up inhaling all the dance techniques and exhaling excellence through all the performances thrown at them. needless to say, they were groomed for it. 

time’s ticking by slowly. ten leans his cheek in one hand, plays with sicheng’s fingers with his other and keeps his eyes closed, even when the professor walks by, clicking his tongue.

outside, there are shouts. someone screams and a bullet sounds through the air. everybody sits up and ten’s gripping sicheng’s hand tight, eyes wide opened. something smears against the window in the far corner of the classroom and sicheng’s hoping the professor will cease class.

but they must follow their schedule. class isn’t over and if one of them steps foot outside, their blood will be next. a knight passes by the window. he spares a glance at the red-tinted glass, no remorse behind his brown eyes. there’s indifference, barely a blink at what just happened. he soldiers his rifle against his shoulder and continues on his way.

like it’s any other ordinary day.

sicheng takes a deep breath. focuses his attention on what’s in front of him, reminds himself that ten’s right next to him and that’s all that really matters. he squeezes ten’s hand and ten leans into him, trembling ever so slightly.

time drags until the bell dings. everybody rises from their seats in unison, shoving their books in their messenger bags. one by one, they file out of the classroom and into the hallway. they separate into their divisions––ten and sicheng heading straight for the dance quarters. 

halfway across the courtyard, ten stops, halting sicheng next to him. there’s hesitation in the way his gaze is unsteady on sicheng, flicking back and forth around them. as if to make sure they’re alone. and they’re never truly alone. the monarch’s knights have eyes and ears everywhere.

but that doesn’t stop ten from being bold.

“what if we skipped?”

sicheng stares at him. “no. after what we just saw? absolutely not.” sicheng doesn’t want to think about their blood carelessly spilled in the streets. their lives ceasing to exist. 

“i’m tired of this though. day in, day out. all we do is study, dance, eat and sleep.” ten’s whispering, keeping his voice low, but there’s exasperation tinged in it. 

“it’s been like this for years. for everybody.” shaking his head, sicheng looks at his watch, “we have to get going. let’s talk about this another day when we don’t have dance to get to.”

ten presses his lips together. he’s holding words back and the grip he has on sicheng’s arm tightens. they stand there, looking at each other, exchanging no other words. and then ten lets go, hooks his pinky around sicheng’s and says, “this is our pinky promise to talk about this later.”

for years, sicheng has been by ten’s side. sometimes unstable but still a constant presence.

when the sirens blare through the night, jerking everybody awake from their slumber, ten’s the first thing on sicheng’s mind. halfway out the door, he’s yanking his shoes on, stumbling into the rushing chaos of people searching for shelter. yuta finds him first, grabbing his arm, “this way!”

it’s in the opposite direction of ten. 

“i have to find ten first.” 

yuta tries to convince him not to. that it’s better to meet him in the barracks, but sicheng’s not easily swayed. he knows ten and knows that ten might be looking for some trouble. 

bright, red lights flash through the hallway. it illuminates every emotion on all the faces he pass. none of them ten’s. some are scared. some defiant. others sleepy. gunshots echo and everybody drops to the floor, hands clasped over their heads. sicheng’s starting to hate how natural of a reaction this is. 

the loud galloping footsteps of the knights’ horses accompany the gunshots and there’s screaming. someone’s sobbing. his heart wrenches at the sounds. he wills his mind to think of other things, but the sounds won’t go away. he presses his palms against his ears, a futile attempt to block it all out. 

warm hands lay over his and he looks up to see ten’s worried eyes. relief softens ten’s gaze and he crouches in front of sicheng, keeping his hands where they are. sicheng lets out a breath. lets himself get lost in the comfort that ten brings with him. 

“you’re okay.” ten whispers, barely audible over the catastrophe happening outside their dorms. ten’s fingers skim up sicheng’s arms, grips at his shoulders for a moment and then ten’s hugging sicheng and they’re cradling each other in hopes that everything will just stop and freeze. 

that maybe there won’t be screams in their dreams tonight.

they should be at dance. but here they are, in a classroom long abandoned hours ago.

“promise me one thing.”

sicheng holds onto ten’s hips, squeezing them in response as he kisses down ten’s neck, leaving little marks along the way. he revels in the subtle hum of ten’s voice when he speaks. ten has his own hands in sicheng’s hair, legs wrapped around sicheng’s waist. 

he’s sitting pretty in sicheng’s lap.

“promise me––” ten trails off with a moan, head tilted back, eyes closed. he bites his lip to try to quiet himself, hips slowly rocking into sicheng’s.

“promise you what?” sicheng mumbles against ten’s chest, nose nuzzling into stiff fabric before he looks up at ten. his hands trail up ten’s sides, finding their way to the cold buttons of ten’s uniform. he slips the buttons through their holes, one by one, tugging the shirt off once he’s at the end. goosebumps dot along ten’s skin from the sudden hit of cool air. ten shivers, arching into sicheng’s hold. 

ten’s skin is smooth and sicheng can’t stop his hands from exploring, touching every bit of ten that’s exposed. ten watches on with a faint smile, head tilted, playing with the strands of sicheng’s hair. his breath hitches when sicheng flicks his tongue against ten’s nipple. all thoughts of what he wanted to say melt into _wanting more_. 

with a soft kiss against his skin here and a light nip there, sicheng pulls ten close, feeling the shudders running through ten. his grip on ten’s hips tightens, coaxing them to rock against his. they both moan, biting their lip to quiet them immediately. the last thing they need right now is for someone to find them in a compromising position such as this.

_promise me you’ll stay by my side._

the promise is red against ten’s pale wrist. a mark that he’s sicheng’s one and only. 

“so you and ten.” it’s not a question. yuta drops down onto the bench next to him, setting his tray of reheated cafeteria food that really only consists of processed carbs and kimchi too spicy that it just burns down your throat. yuta pops one into his mouth anyway.

the barbarian.

sicheng looks down at his own food, untouched since he received it from the kind cafeteria ladies. he hasn’t had much of an appetite lately. tests and dance practices take up too much of his mind, chasing away any kind of appetite he could possibly have. 

yuta elbows him, “what’s wrong? cat got your tongue?”

shaking his head, sicheng offers him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it’s yuta. it doesn’t matter because yuta can read him like an opened book. he’s known yuta for as long as ten and where ten’s a kindling flame in his heart, yuta’s the sane rationale in his brain.

“i’m exhausted from this week. i’m just ready for it be over.” sicheng sighs, crossing his arms on the table and leaning his cheek down against them. “and it’s only tuesday.”

“you’re right, it’s only tuesday so chin up, bud. have ten take you out somewhere.”

sicheng’s not going to lie. the sound of ten’s name has his heart fluttering. “he’s also dying from this week.” 

“perfect.” yuta points his red-stained chopsticks at sicheng, “you guys can be dead together. that sounds pretty romantic if you asked me.” 

“can we not talk about being dead?” taeyong settles down in front of them, a stern look on his face. sicheng tilts his head, looking up at taeyong with his own questioning look. “there’s been about 50 deaths this week.”

death counts have been on the rise. knights patrol the streets throughout the days and nights and sicheng’s starting to believe that anybody that crosses their paths will not make it back home alive. hardly anybody ventures out anymore. their village, once so lively and humming with freedom, is dwindling down to a ghost town. 

what a headache.

sicheng presses his palms against his eyes. why does feel like so much is weighing down on him? 

“how do you know it’s been about 50? who told you?” yuta’s voice lowers as he leans in towards taeyong. it’s not exactly a taboo subject, but everything’s hush hush when it comes to talks about the the monarchy and how they’re practically _monsters_. 

taeyong doesn’t respond right away. he lifts his finger up to his lips and gestures his head towards his right. both sicheng and yuta look over to see a knight standing guard at the entrance of the cafeteria. he stands, poised with his hands at his sides, gun strapped to his hip. his shoulders are slim but broad and around them are purple cords, signifying his high status amongst the knights.

sicheng’s gaze lingers too long and the knight turns his way, eyes cold and unreadable. sicheng quickly looks away, a sigh lodged in his chest with every other emotion that’s wanting to be released.

“he told you?” yuta raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

“not me _particularly_.” taeyong shrugs, leaning back in his chair which only prompts yuta and sicheng to gather closer to him. “the other night, kun and i were out for a walk and we overheard him talking to another soldier.” 

“wait, you guys went out after curfew?”

pressing his lips together, taeyong shrugs again. there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips, but sicheng rolls his eyes. he bites back the scold because he doesn’t really have much room to say about breaking rules.

“ _taeyong_.” yuta sounds exasperated. “that’s dangerous. you’re not only putting yourself in danger but kun too.”

“yeah,” there’s a flicker of regret in taeyong’s eyes. it disappears just as quickly. “but we’re fine, aren’t we?”

both sicheng and yuta stare at taeyong. sighing, yuta narrows his eyes. “doesn’t matter. don’t go out again. if not because you care about your own safety, at least for kun’s.”

“okay, okay. _anyway_ , summer is approaching. are you prepared?”

taeyong looks at him expectantly. sicheng doesn’t want to put into words all the anxious thoughts he’s feeling from the upcoming seasonal performance. from the fact that he’ll be competing against ten for a spot when he’s never had to worry about it before. yuta rubs his shoulders as if he’s already taking in all the worries. 

with everything else going on, sicheng hasn’t really been able to even _think_ about it. 

“good luck.”

the sun bleeds into the sky. 

their shadows stretch out long across the hills as they hike up to the highest point in their city. they’re quiet, still sleepy despite being awake for an hour. sicheng grips ten’s hand. his thumb brushes against’s ten’s knuckles from time to time. 

ten’s a whole new person when he’s half awake. he’s all soft with the way he mumbles words into sicheng’s arm, too tired to keep himself upright. soft in the way his ruffled hair falls in his eyes and his cheeks puff out from the annoyance. sicheng’s staring and he shouldn’t be because he should be used to this by now. 

should be used to this but his heart’s still skipping away. 

at the top of the hill, ten finds a patch of grass that’s not covered in morning dew, right underneath the vast sky. he spreads his thin blanket out and settles down, legs crossed for comfort. he looks up at sicheng expectantly.

with the grand view of the village, they’re feeling like they’re on top of the world. nothing can touch them up here. sicheng can’t hold the grin back as he lowers himself, invading ten’s personal space as he gently pushes ten down against the blanket. 

“what are you doing?” ten laughs, arms automatically wrapping themselves around his shoulders, pulling sicheng down along with him. their hearts are beating fast. breathless from their hike and something else a little too intimate for words. “if you’re thinking what i think you’re thinking, it’s too risky out in the open.”

“too risky? _the_ ten is telling me something’s too risky?” rolling his eyes playfully, sicheng ducks down, stealing a sweet kiss from ten’s lips. “you’re kidding me, right? we’ll be okay out here. it’s still early too.” 

ten smiles, spreading his legs underneath sicheng and enjoying the way sicheng fits perfectly against him. his fingers tug at sicheng’s shirt, pulling it out of sicheng’s waistband. “i was saying it for the sake of saying it. just in case you were having doubts.”

“mhm, i’m sure you were.” sicheng laughs and lifts his palm up to ten’s cheek, tilting his head back. he bites down on ten’s bottom lip, coaxing a soft moan out of the other. ten hooks a leg around sicheng and bucks his hips up, craving the little friction their pants create against each other. 

words are lost when they lock eyes and sicheng’s hips are meeting ten’s, grinding down against him. it’s slow at first. ten’s eyes flutter close, mouth opened in a silent moan. the rhythm’s sloppy and they really haven’t found a good groove yet, but it doesn’t matter when the pleasure’s burning within them and sicheng’s snapping his hips and ten’s moaning with no worry about being quiet and getting caught by their teachers.

their days pass in a similar fashion. they’re finding empty classrooms or corridors, hiding away from their teachers and peers to steal a kiss here or to quickly pleasure each other there. it’s kind of filthy, sicheng thinks one day, kind of guilty. to find such a solace in someone when the world around him is in such chaos.

but that is what he needs. he needs ten to keep him going with his kisses, his touches, his _everything_. ten’s the light at the end of the endless void of a tunnel that they all call their lives. and sicheng will lose himself in ten as many times as it will take to keep his mind off of the ever-present reality.

they’re running down the hill, ten’s hand secured in sicheng’s, the ribbon trailing behind in the wind. there’s no rush to be anywhere. no real reason to be running other than the fact that they can run and laugh while they’re at it. 

before they arrive at the bottom of the hill, sicheng tugs ten to a stop. the trees are dense with a quaint path that leads back to the village. here, nobody can see them.

so sicheng cups ten’s cheek, steals a kiss and lets it linger for as long as he can. ten’s the one who pulls away, a laugh at the corners of his lips. a blush appears at the tip of his ears and he’s playfully pushing at sicheng’s chest. they walk hand in hand through the swaying leaves until they near the end where the bright sun glares into the shadows.

it was the reprieve they needed from their constant studying. they part when they arrive at the campus––sicheng leaves for the library and ten goes to taeyong for their first dance practice together.

warmth welcomes him as he steps outside the classroom, arms spread out to soak in the sun. at long last, the exams are over and done with and all he has to worry about is his audition for the seasonal performance. bruises dot along his legs with a few here and there along his arms. the results of his endless practices in the middle of the night.

how long has it been since he’s last had a night to himself? 

someone leans against him and lets out a relieved sigh. “finally over, huh?” 

sicheng looks over at yuta. everybody’s been worn thin this week and the black circles heavy under yuta’s eyes express that all too well. sicheng offers a consoling pat against yuta’s elbow. 

“yes. finally.”

“you have a date lined up with ten to celebrate?” 

they make their way across the courtyard, dodging all the students hurrying to their next exams. sicheng stays close to yuta, more so that yuta can have him to lean against as they walk. the question brings back pieces of their morning outing days ago before school’s hell week began. a fleeting smile appears from the brief memories even though it feels like it’s been months since he’s last had ten wrapped up in his arms. 

“not yet. we haven’t been able to talk much because of exams and all the dance practices we need.” sighing, sicheng tugs on his duffel bag, where his change of clothes sit heavily. “i’m actually heading to the practice room right now.” sicheng scrunches his nose up. that’s the absolute last place he wants to be. 

“oh, right. i’ll walk with you. my next exam is in that direction” yuta nods as if to affirm his decision. and while sicheng is dreading heading to the practice room, it’s nice to have someone also walk with him. someone to fill the long silence with so he doesn’t drown in the unwanted thoughts or the occasional scream that happens outside the school’s perimeters. yuta breaks through his train of down spiraling thoughts. “the audition is soon. are you prepared?”

is he prepared? sicheng gives the question a good couple of seconds before he answers bluntly, “no.”

he’s never felt so pressured for a performance before. was it because he’s going up against ten for the same spot? usually, it never mattered. each past performance, either ten or sicheng would be chosen to audition for the role. never them both. and the added stress is honestly killing him from the inside out.

“no?” yuta sounds shocked and sicheng’s worried he’ll see disappointment if he looks his way. 

so he doesn't. he keeps walking forward, shrugs as if it doesn’t matter and he’s not bothered by it (even if it’s eating at his soul at the very moment). there’s this heavy feeling growing inside him. this heavy feeling of everything seemingly weighing on this one single audition. it’s _just_ another audition. he’s done _countless_ auditions for years––he was groomed for them. 

but why does it feel like everything will go wrong no matter what the results are? 

the practice room comes into view and there’s music filtering out from it through the cracks of the door. sicheng tilts his head. it’s usually empty at this time of day with mostly everybody in their classes. sicheng managed to be one of the lucky ones to not have a class in the middle of the day.

he’s also lucky to have been able to finish his exams early, but really he’s just grateful for it all. it means more time to practice and perfect his dance routine. 

sicheng walks up to the door, hand poised over the doorknob. there’s a narrow window stretching down the length of the door to allow anybody who might be passing a glimpse inside. and inside is ten. he’s pressed up against taeyong and they’re flowing across the dance floor to the melody encompassing the room. something red ripples between them, bright against their pale skin.

it’s an intimate dance where personal space isn’t a thing to exist and their breaths are practically mingling. and all sicheng can do is stare and watch. he’s wondering why it isn’t him and it’s taeyong instead. it shouldn’t be a question when taeyong’s the clear option for the other main role for the performance. he always has been. such a strong dancer with a passionate presence when sicheng’s a little bit more mellow. calmer compared to him and ten.

and yet he’s still questioning with each touch that passes between them.

suddenly, sicheng’s jerked back. the shirt of his collar presses into his neck and for a quick second, he can’t breathe and his gaze whites out. the grip on him loosens and yuta whips him around, hands digging into sicheng’s shoulders. there’s a look in yuta’s eyes that he can’t figure out when he’s gathering his senses and gasping for breath.

yuta’s saying something but no sound is coming out. sicheng tries to shake him off. he’s inhaling and exhaling, heart pounding, and if yuta wasn’t holding him up, he knows he would be collapsing to the ground.

“sicheng! what is the matter?” yuta’s voice breaks through and it causes sicheng to freeze, eyes wide and focusing in on the other. he’s worried. why does he look so worried? 

_don’t be so worried, yuta._

sicheng shakes his head. the palms of his hands hang loose at his side. he’s frozen to the spot with such a strong desire to run away but no motivation to actually move. the heavy feeling inside of him festers, clawing at his heart now.

yuta’s own palm is warm against sicheng’s cheek as he pats them gently. “hey, look at me. deep breaths. what’s wrong? talk to me, sicheng.”

_don’t be so––_

“sicheng?” breathless. 

the click of a door straightens his spine, parts his lips with no words forming from them. yuta’s looking at him with the worry piercing into sicheng. he blinks and there’s a blinding smile on yuta’s face.

“sorry, ten, sicheng’s not feeling well.” with a tight arm around his shoulder, yuta gathers sicheng close. “i’ll take him to the nurses’ quarters. you finish up practice with tae.”

“but––”

sicheng’s melting into yuta, suddenly feeling very drained. his eyes closes and he tries not to hear how ten’s calling his name, focusing only how the darkness is welcoming him. freeing him of all the thoughts and worries eating him up.

this is much better than reality.

the lights are blinding when he comes to. everything is white in the nurses’ quarters and it hurts his eyes to look around. he’s expecting to see yuta sitting next to him and his heart stops when his eyes land on ten. but the worry is still there. this time, it’s killing him to see ten with his eyes so wide and sad.

“you’re awake.” ten states, fingers fidgeting together in his lap.

“yeah.” sicheng’s voice is hoarse. he wonders how long he’s been out. there aren’t any windows around, no clocks on the wall. hours must have passed with him useless in bed. and with ten beside him, sicheng knows ten must have sacrificed practice and the rest of his precious hours to be with him. his voice cracks, “thanks.” 

“for what?” 

“for staying.”

ten seems taken aback and nods, “of course, why wouldn’t i be here? it’s better if i’m by your side instead of yuta. i would’ve worried way too much.” 

“i can’t argue against that, but you shouldn’t have.” taeyong’s face flashes in his mind. “what about your practice with taeyong?” 

“we’re going to practice again tonight. after i make sure you’re back safely in your dorm.” sighing softly, ten places one of his hands on top of sicheng’s. “you haven’t been eating properly, have you? you’re literally skin and bones right now.”

sicheng shrugs. he could say the same thing about ten. they haven’t had a proper meal together in days and ten’s never had a big appetite to begin with. but sicheng holds back all the nagging words he wants to say and lets out his own sigh. he lets his fingers slip between ten’s, finding comfort in the little warmth.

“you still have exams, don’t you? you should get going.” sicheng gives ten’s hand a small squeeze the moment he sees ten open his mouth to protest. “i’ll make it back to the dorm by myself. i don’t want you to get in trouble for missing your exams.” 

“i just have one left. i don’t think my grades will suffer if i miss this last one.” ten huffs. but the way he glances to the left, puffs his cheeks out and avoid all eye contact tells sicheng that ten needs to go. 

sicheng glances around at the curtains drawn together to keep their privacy in. once satisfied, he pushes himself up and lifts his hands to cup ten’s cheeks, pulling him his way to look at him. ten looks nervous. sicheng’s nervous. 

before he has a chance to press a kiss against ten’s lips, ten’s pulling away and shaking his head. sicheng tries not to think about it but his heart is sinking at the rejection.

“the nurse could be back any time soon.” ten leans back in his chair, separating himself from sicheng’s hands. “i think it’d be worse to get caught by the nurse for kissing than to miss my final exam. sorry.”

sicheng has no words. silence weighs down on them and sicheng tries to smile, tries to laugh it off, but there’s nothing coming out. his hands ache to hold onto ten and to pull him close until both of them are in bed and they’re over this awkwardness that’s so unbecoming of them.

ten shrinks against the chair and his fingers are fidgeting with each other again. sicheng’s eyes flicker back and forth from ten’s fingers to the wall to the bed and then back to ten. 

ten finally speaks up, “i’ll go to that exam.” 

the chair squeaks against the ground when ten rises from his spot and stares at anything but sicheng. sicheng’s nodding and he’s also avoiding looking at ten. he’s pulling the blanket around his shoulder, pressing himself against the bed when the door shuts behind ten’s retreating figure. 

sicheng sighs.

“sure.”

it’s the middle of the night. 

sirens blare and the hallways are filled red. sicheng pushes against the flow of bodies rushing to hide. screams resound outside, mingling with the hushed, panicked words of the students. many grab at his arm, urging him to turn the other way. his heart’s weakening with each denial that passes through his lips.

sicheng pauses in front of a window and he really doesn’t know what stops him because he needs to find ten. he needs ten to keep him grounded. 

he’s momentarily blinded by a bright light. behind it stands a knight, velvet hood shielding his eyes, but the bottom of his face has streaks of blood across his cheeks. there’s a smirk amongst the blood, illuminated by the flashing lights of the school. chills run down sicheng’s spine when his eyes run down the clothed arm, widening at the sight of a gun.

pointed right at kun.

red streaks his dreams, bleeding into the starless skies and tainting the moon with despair. he stands in the fields, surrounded by dried lavender slanted towards a sun that won’t rise. the night is dead. silence overwhelms him and bears down on his shoulders, keeping him rooted to the spot. 

it’s hard to breathe. lavender is all he smells. lavender and the hint of blood. 

gunshots sound around him. they grow in volume until the sound is echoing in his mind. he clutches at his forehead, crumpling to the ground and willing with all of his might for the sounds to go away. shivers ache down his back and it hurts as if there are pins stabbing into his muscles.

kun materializes in front of him, eyes blown from fear. there’s a hole gaping in his chest and suddenly, a pain shooting through sicheng’s own chest. for a moment, the gunshots cease to be. his eyes are drawn to kun and fear washes over him when he realizes kun’s staring right back at him.

he’s thrown back from an unknown force and lands against a tree. what little breath he had is knocked out of him. 

and he wakes up in a cold sweat. for the past couple of days, he’s been through a vicious cycle of nightmares, guilt, and the lack of will to see anybody. 

sicheng turns on his side, reaching for his phone out of habit. notifications blur across his home screen and a quick scan doesn’t find anything from ten. he tosses it back onto his nightstand and sighs, burying his face into his pillow. but he’s afraid of falling asleep and being sucked back into his nightmares. 

pathetic. how pathetic can he be?

he rolls over onto his back and spends the next ten minutes staring at the ceiling and gathering up enough courage and will to get out of bed. there’s no motivation in his movements and thoughts and it has always been ten to provide him the needed motivation he needed. but they haven’t been in touch since. and as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, it is eating him up on the inside not being able to see ten. not receiving a single text from ten and to be fair, he hasn’t tried reaching out either.

and he’s honestly getting so fed up with his emotions eating him up. 

snatching up his phone, he scrolls through it quickly to find ten’s name. he’s typing before he has a chance to change his mind–– _i’m coming over to your room_. 

his nervous heart is pounding.

( _why…_

_don’t come here._

_i’ll meet you in the courtyard._ ) 

ten’s fidgeting in front of him.

“i’m sorry, sicheng.” ten’s shaking his head, eyes downcast. “i don’t think taeyong’s in the right state of mind. i know we wanted to spend more time together after the exams are over and done with, but i’m worried about taeyong. i––i don’t think he should be by himself.” 

“i understand.” at least, sicheng wants to try. 

he wants to cling onto ten and cry in his embrace from what he saw. from everything that has been plaguing him in the dead of night. but what right does he have when he barely knew kun? when taeyong and kun had been childhood friends since they were in diapers and were practically inseparable? 

his pain can’t compare to taeyong’s.

ten looks up at him with sparkling eyes. guilts spikes at his heart. everybody’s hurting right now. there’s so much heartbreak in the air and everybody wants to cry. he’s not special. so sicheng has to be the stronger one of the two. that way ten can rely on him the same way ten has taeyong relying on him. 

if only there was a switch for him to turn his feelings off whenever he felt like it. 

ten throws his arms around sicheng, squeezes him until he’s out of breath and lets go all in a span of a few seconds. sicheng barely catches his breath before ten’s jogging across the courtyard in search of taeyong. 

taeyong and ten have always been good friends with a healthy competitive side to them. while sicheng never saw taeyong as a person to worry about because of how different their dance styles are, ten was always aware of taeyong, making comments about each dance taeyong performs. it’s never been a thing that bothered sicheng before. he used to be so confident back then. 

where did all of that confidence go? 

the back of sicheng’s eyes are burning from unshed tears and he’s starting to get a headache from it all. he curls his fingers into his palms and tries not to stomp away like a little child. but he knows he’s not being graceful as he’s striding through yuta’s dorm and going right to yuta’s room. 

“oh, sicheng, come here.” yuta welcomes him with open arms.

sicheng stands in the doorway, suddenly realizing where he is. he stares at yuta and the invitation. he knows the second he accepts the hug from yuta, he’ll be a bawling baby. 

“don’t be stubborn now. you’ve crawled out from the dungeons, don’t tell me you’re going to go hiding back there.” yuta sighs. “you’re bold to think i’d let you anyway.”

warms fingers wrap around his wrist, tugging him into yuta’s arms. guilt pokes at him but he ignores it and lets himself melt (once again) into yuta. the tears don’t come right away, but they prick at his eyes and while yuta’s holding him steady, he’s rubbing his eyes and willing the tears to come out.

when yuta mumbles, “it’s going to be okay, sicheng,” that’s when everything breaks within him. the tears run down his face and his body is taken over by uncontrollable sobs.

the corners of his lips quiver and he wants to smile so bad. he wants to pretend that everything’s okay and that he’s going to wake up from these nightmares to a bright, sunny reality. but the frown is overpowering with the sadness welling up inside him. yuta rubs soothing circles into sicheng’s back and guides him to sit down on yuta’s bed. there are unspoken questions burning in yuta’s gaze, but yuta’s respecting the moment sicheng needs right now to collect himself.

the next thing sicheng knows is he’s waking up for the second time that day. his eyes feel puffy and his face aches for all the wrong reasons. yuta rests across from him, head leaning back against the wall, arms spread along the couch. he looks too peaceful for sicheng to wake.

as quietly as he can, sicheng pushes himself up off the bed and lets his feet find the floor. it creaks underneath his weight and it’s loud in the silent room. it’s enough to wake yuta up and sicheng finds himself frozen at the look yuta gives him. 

“i wasn’t going to leave without saying bye.” sicheng’s voice is hoarse, grating against his own ears to his own words.

yuta looks at him real hard, reading all the hidden words in between what sicheng’s saying. “i don’t believe you. lay back down. you’re obviously exhausted from whatever you’ve been dealing with. by yourself.” 

sicheng shakes his head, anxiously biting down on his lower lip. “i’m okay.”

“no you’re not.”

“i will be.” sicheng crosses his arm. he suddenly feels like he’s talking to his father and getting a scolding when yuta doesn’t even know the full story. “you said it was going to be okay so i’m okay.”

“that’s not how that works and you know it. i was saying that to comfort you and i’m saying this now that we should talk so i can comfort you more and _help_ you.”

sicheng breaks their eye contact. his fingers tremble and he digs them into the blanket on the bed. the rough fabric isn’t any comfort and he doesn’t believe he’ll find that in yuta right now either. so he sits like a stubborn boy, lips pressed tightly together. when really, it’s the first time he’s had such strong emotions overcome him and he knows the second he brings the memories back up, he’ll be reduced to tears again and a selfish longing for ten to come and be by his side. 

“i don’t know, yuta.” 

yuta pleads with his eyes boring into him, pleading to keep the words coming. yuta’s so desperate to hear what he has to say. “go on,” soft words as if yuta’s scared sicheng’s going to run away (even if that’s exactly what sicheng wants to do).

a shaky breath inhaled. “i feel like everything’s going downhill and i don’t know how to stop myself from tumbling down it.” trembling words exhaled. sicheng’s head is spinning as images flicker through his mind. 

_kun collapsing to the ground_.

“hey,” yuta kneels down in front of him, placing his hand on top of sicheng’s knee. in hopes it’ll comfort sicheng. “it wasn’t your fault. what could you have done in that situation? run out there and get yourself killed?”

sicheng presses the heels of his palms against his eyes, trying to will the burning sensation behind them away. but nothing’s working. tears leak out, streaking down his pinked cheeks. he’s trying so hard to keep himself together, but the soft lilt of yuta’s caring voice is breaking the walls down.

“the knight would have killed you and kun together.” 

the warmth from yuta’s hand is heavy. sicheng could’ve prevented it. could’ve ran at the knight, tackle him into the ground or some other reckless distraction for kun to run away.

they wouldn’t have died together.

sicheng would have died for kun to keep living. 

the tears fall faster and he’s wiping at his cheeks, blinking rapidly and avoiding yuta’s gaze. he takes a shuddering breath and bites down on his lip to keep himself from sobbing out loud. 

“hey, look, ten would have been devasted if you died.” 

_ten appearing out of a building across the courtyard._

_with taeyong at his side._

sicheng has thought about that in the last couple of days of locking himself in the room. of how _devastated_ ten would have been if it had been him and not kun. 

would ten have taeyong like the other has ten now? 

the thought settles uneasily inside him. he pulls his legs up against his chest, pretending he doesn’t see yuta’s hand fall to the side. wrapping his arms tight around them, he buries his face into his knees, letting his jeans rub his cheeks raw. the tears are still falling. his shoulders are trembling and everything’s aching.

“what is that you’re not telling me?”

yuta sighs.

“you’re closing up at the mention of ten.” the bed shifts, dipping under yuta’s weight as he sits down next to sicheng. yuta drapes an arm around sicheng’s back, rubbing his side as soothingly as he can. “did something happen between you two?”

sicheng shrugs. because nothing really happened between them. it’s all sicheng. overreacting. overthinking. 

“should i talk to ten?”

at that, sicheng looks at yuta frantically, shaking his head and grabbing ahold of yuta’s shoulders. he doesn’t mean to, but he’s shaking yuta and he’s not sure if it’s because he’s shaking himself or he’s trying to rid yuta of all the thoughts that are plaguing sicheng. 

“n-no.” 

yuta’s unconvinced. he’s calm as he places his own hands on top of sicheng’s and pries them off of him. he holds them tight, looking right into sicheng’s eyes.

“are you sure?”

 _no_ , sicheng wants to say. he wants answers. he wants all of these unwanted feelings to leave, to free his heart of this miserable uncertainty.

that would not be fair to yuta. 

“p-please don’t.” sicheng’s fingers curl around yuta’s hands, clasping onto them.

_ten’s hand in taeyong’s_. 

summer melts into the sky with a blazing sunset. sicheng walks around with a flickering torch, lighting each lantern along the path to the makeshift stage. he makes his way to the backstage, handing off the torch off to the next person who will wander further into the town, lighting it up for the performance tonight. 

weeks have passed and sicheng’s breath catches in his throat at the sight of ten changing into his uniform. words have been scarced between them. with ten too busy with his rehearsals alongside taeyong for the seasonal dance and sicheng wrapping up his studies, they have not seen much of each other.

sicheng wants to tell ten he’s stopped crying himself to sleep every night. his dreams are a little better to where he isn’t paralyzed against the bed every time he wakes up. 

ten looks up as he fingers deftly buttons up his shirt. he catches sicheng’s gaze and offers him a small smile. it doesn’t quite reach ten’s eyes, doesn’t give it the usual sparkle. sicheng turns away before taeyong comes into view. 

jealousy tugs at his heart. that’s _his_ spot next to ten. even if he hasn’t occupied it in weeks, it’s still his. 

there’s nothing left for sicheng to fool himself with. a headache blooms along his temples and he rubs at them as if that’ll make them go away. it doesn’t, but it takes his mind off of his thoughts. even for just a little bit, it’s a reprieve he welcomes. he leaves the backstage, feet stomping unnecessarily louder than he wants on the steps. 

there are eyes staring into him as he walks away. he wants to look back and see who it is, but he knows he’ll be disappointed if they don’t belong to the person he wants them to. 

he watches the flames of the lanterns flicker in the breeze. people claim seats as they approach. the performance doesn’t start for another hour, but they’re all crowding in, faces alighted with happiness and anticipation. he spots yuta easily. yuta gives him a small wave as he settles down next to jungwoo. they beckon him over, an empty seat on the other side of yuta.

the sound of horses galloping soon fills the air. excited murmurs join them and soon, everybody is twisting in their seats for a glimpse of the prince. someone runs out to greet them and sicheng’s surprised to see it’s ten. 

ten holds a hand out for the prince to grab onto as he descends his horse. there he goes with his sparkling smile and eye crescents pointed up at the prince. a stranger. the crowned prince, yes, but a _mere_ stranger. jealousy is coursing through him again. this feeling is dangerous. unwanted thoughts start to take over his mind and if he’s not careful, he could make a rash decision that would hammer the final nail in his relationship with ten.

_would it be worth it?_

to try to deviate from the thoughts, he walks briskly over to where yuta and jungwoo are and drops down in the empty chair. he faces the stage headon, ignoring the hushed murmurs about the prince and ten. yuta reaches over and tries to rub comfort into sicheng’s tense shoulder. 

sicheng doesn’t want to see the performance. he wants to leave and head back to his dorm and sleep the rest of the night away. the prince is seated with the best view of the stage. and it is rather unfortunate that it happens to be right in front of sicheng who finds himself already staring holes into the other. 

the spotlights surrounding the wooden stage begin to fade away into the darkness, letting only the lanterns lined along the paths be the light of the night. the curtains fall to the side and music bleeds into the air with stilted strings and sharp horns. ten kneels in the center. dancers flit around him, barely blending into the background as shadows of the dark. 

a hand cups his cheek from behind. it’s seen as a loving caress, the fingers grazing down the curve of ten’s cheek, but to sicheng’s, it’s a punch to the gut. taeyong grips ten’s chin. a sharp tug and a silence breaking into the music, both ten and taeyong are flowing to the side, eyes locked with each other’s. 

the sound of a harp filters in, growing in volume as they move across the stage, arms entangled and the space between them decreasing with each second––

and with each breath taken, sicheng is a second away from departing. the prince in front of him is in awe, making small hums underneath his breath. his eyes are glued to the pair and again, the spike of jealousy makes his heart skip a beat. 

yuta bumps his shoulder against sicheng’s, dragging his attention away from it all. he whispers, breath tickling right below sicheng’s ear. “are you okay?”

it’s a rhetorical question. yuta already knows the answer.

but sicheng nods anyway. maybe one day, he will trick himself into believing that he’s okay. that one day, he will be okay without the reassurance that ten is his. that ten still wants something to do with him. 

today is not that day.

today, sicheng is running away from the inevitable, dreaded words that need to be said between him and ten. yuta grabs his hand, ignores the question from jungwoo, and tugs sicheng away from the performance with apologetic bows of his head to the audience he blocks for a brief moment. 

tears sting at the back of his eyes. he doesn’t want to cry. tears have weakened him and reduced him to a soulless corpse with nothing holding him up. except for yuta. yuta with his endless patience and reassuring words. sicheng should have fallen in love with someone like yuta. 

not someone like ten who captures the night stars in his gaze and lights light fires along sicheng’s skin whenever they touch.

“you need to talk to him.” yuta remarks after he has settled sicheng down on an empty bench. the courtyard is quiet with barely a soul around. everybody is too wrapped up in the performance to be milling about the school. “you can’t keep going on like this.”

“i know.”

“i know you know, but seriously. it hurts me to see you like this. you still haven’t told me anything, but you know what?” yuta sighs. yuta is always sighing when he talks to sicheng it seems. “i hate to say this, sicheng, but you deserve better than this.”

sicheng clasps his hands in front of him, bearing all of his weight on his knees. yuta’s words are eating at him, digging right into his heart and causing it to ache. 

“i’m scared.”

“and it’s okay to be scared. it’s not an easy conversation. but it’s one you _need_ to have.” 

yuta’s right.

when is he not?

in the faint distance, cheers erupt, filling the air. shivers crawl down sicheng’s arms and his nails are digging into the back of his hands, leaving half-moons in his skin. he tries to block out all the sounds. to focus on the sound of his heart beating behind his chest. 

“it’s time for you to be happy again.”

it happens in the dead of night. a scream is muffled, mouth covered with a cloth. footsteps march throughout the town, trampling over the remnants of the seasonal festival. they stop at the border where caravans with grand horses await. the carriages fill up quickly with struggling limbs. 

“let’s stop this.”

sicheng didn’t want it to end like this. he wanted to hold on for a little longer, to fight for someone who meant so much to him. and if sicheng wants to be honest, he wanted to be the one to do it. all the words he scripted for this very moment flees his mind. everything in him shuts down and he stops walking, looks at ten and opens his mouth.

but nothing comes out. 

ten doesn’t look at him, “i think we’ve both changed. a lot has happened and i’ve been doing a lot of thinking––” 

each word wrap around his heart, digging into it with their thorns and letting him bleed out all the emotions and feelings he’s grown for ten. the words are buzzing in his mind, taking control of all of his senses and they’re starting to fall on deaf ears.

 _stop_.

“sicheng. i’m sorry.”

a headache throbs at the back of his head and sicheng squints as if that could make it better. it doesn’t. his voice cracks with tears prickling along the insides of his throat. “you don’t even want to try?” 

a pause. ten rubs his upper arms, nails dragging pale lines along his skin. a nervous habit of his, but sicheng sees it as a defense mechanism. it’s a way to block himself from the world. from what sicheng wants even though it’s not what he wants. 

“i- i don’t know.” ten breathes a shuddering sigh. “i want to, but taeyong needs me and i don’t want you waiting around for nothing. you don’t deserve that.”

taeyong again. 

sicheng is healing just fine by himself, but taeyong still needs ten. ten still wants to be by taeyong’s side and not by sicheng’s and it’s a pill hard to swallow. he reaches out and stops short from touching ten, scared of what will happen if he holds onto ten. scared of what will happen if he _doesn’t_. 

“sicheng, i love you, i really do––” 

time seems to stand still for far longer than sicheng wants. their love has never been one of the verbal kind. there are ghost of promises kissed along both of their skins. the glimpse of the red ribbon on ten’s wrist glares with the promise. but to say _i love you_ is new and unwanted.

“stop.” he says it out loud this time. and ten finally looks at him, eyes pinked from his own tears falling down his cheeks. and that’s so unfair of him. sicheng’s heart aches even more at the sight. he whispers, his heart breaking through the tremors of his voice. “please, take that back.”

ten eyes widen and he rubs at his cheeks with sleeves too long for his arms (and that’s definitely sicheng’s cardigan he’s been missing). 

“why?”

words rush to the tip of his tongue. it’s overwhelming. the only thing that manages to slip out is “it’s hard to believe you.” and it’s not exactly what sicheng wants to say. he wants to tell ten that he loves him too with all the pieces of his heart. he _needs_ to tell ten that ten is his whole world and nothing would ever mean more than him. 

ten hesitates, gaze falling back to the ground, “that’s fair, i guess.”

they stand there, letting the silence hang heavy between them. there’s so much more to say and sicheng parts his lips, ready to say something, _anything_ ––

“sicheng!”

yuta yells out and skids to a stop next to them. he bends over, hands on knees, and he’s gasping, trying to catch his breath as the words spill out, “they’ve taken jungwoo.” 

“what?” 

“jungwoo’s been taken away. i tried to stop them.” yuta crumbles to the ground, hand gripping onto sicheng’s pants. “but i couldn’t. they threatened to take me away too and i thought about it, sicheng. i thought i could save him. but i was scared.” 

sicheng kneels down and pulls yuta into a tight embrace. “there was nothing you could do. it’s okay.”

yuta trembles and he starts to sob. sicheng tightens his arms and soon, his own tears fall and it’s hard to keep it together. he doesn’t know why he’s crying anymore, but he holds onto yuta. dear yuta who’s so strong and such a support for sicheng. a desire burns within sicheng to return yuta the favor and be the one yuta can rely on.

in the middle of it all, sicheng tries not to notice ten sneaking away.

an auction appears in the middle of the town with no bells or whistles. travelers from other villages wander around the streets,, strangers to the locals. some smell of sea. others smell of the crisp snowpeaks of the mountains.

and they all have a sleazy, arrogant smile adorn on their lips. they walk with their shoulders broad, pulled back, as if they own anywhere they step foot. sicheng scowls whenever one passes. they mingle with the knights, sharing a cigar with a flick of their matchstick. and that’s enough for sicheng to disapprove of them.

yuta and sicheng wait for twilight to settle before they slip between the gates. the auction has been the talk of the town and school and curiosity urges the pair out of their beds and down the cobblestone streets. people crowd the paths the closer they arrive to the center. 

memories of ten upon the stage at the last seasonal performance pop into sicheng’s mind. but they’re quick to disappear once they near the shining torches lined around the makeshift stage where girls and boys stand with blindfolds tied around their eyes. yuta gasps and shoves his way through the rest of the people.

yuta makes his way to the outskirt of the circle, arm stretched out towards the stage. someone slaps his hand, pushes him back hard enough to send him falling against someone else. yuta recovers and attempts to get closer again. sicheng follows yuta’s gaze and his own gasp slips out. 

“jungwoo,” escapes his lips and sicheng tries to follow after yuta, but everybody’s riled up now, pressing their shoulders together to prevent him from getting through because they all want a sight of the pretty boy yuta’s yelling for. 

“get back.” a rough voice calls out and a grunt is heard over the crowd. sicheng sees yuta falling and he finds renewed strength to shove people out of his way. yuta collapses on the ground, a bruise already blooming along his cheek. sicheng rushes over, but someone beats him to yuta, hands on yuta’s shoulders and keeping him pinned to the ground.

“stay still if you want to live.” the person whispers, eyes staring hard at yuta. 

sicheng narrows his eyes, grabbing a fistful of the stranger’s shirt, and yanks him back. “and why should he listen to you? a stranger?” 

he chuckles and tilts his head, gesturing towards the knights stationed around the area. with all the foriegn travelers milling about, the knights almost blend in with their surroundings. “because he gets up and makes more of a fuss, they’ll have one of their pretty, little knights shooting a bullet right through his skull.”

yuta sighs, his will struggling and wavering with uncertainty, eyes closing. “but, i need to save jungwoo.”

“look, i hate to break it to you, you are not going to be saving him if you get shot.” the moment the stranger removes his hands from yuta, sicheng pulls his own hand away. “and i really hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your friend is as good as gone anyway.”

someone bangs against a gong and the sound shoots down to sicheng’s gut, festering a bad feeling sicheng’s been having for awhile now.

“sold!” 

sicheng whips around to see jungwoo in the hands of a man twice his size, a tophat sitting crooked on a residing hairline. the realization of what the auction is for hits him. sicheng’s about to leap up, but a hand wraps tight around his wrist, keeping him in his place. 

he expects the other to be the stranger, but he meets yuta’s eyes and yuta’s shaking his head. “don’t.” 

“but––” 

yuta’s eyes shine with unshed tears and too many emotions running through him. sicheng bites down on his tongue, swallowing back all the words he wants to let out. “we’ll find him. and we will rescue him.” 

“wonderful. i love that attitude.” they both turn towards the stranger forgotten for only a moment. “can i interest you two in joining me?”

“for dinner?” yuta cocks an eyebrow, tugging sicheng close before letting sicheng’s wrist go. “i don’t think so.”

a breathy laugh comes out of the other and soon, he ushers them up onto their feet. “no. something even better. something revolutionary.” 

ten doesn’t look at him when sicheng steps into the practice room, footsteps quiet on the hardwood floor. the next seasonal performance is nearing already and because the world hates sicheng, they both have been chose as the main performers. the dance coach stands, hands on hips, and stares them down until sweat beads along their foreheads from the tension. 

it’s difficult to listen to the story of the dance when sicheng can’t stop staring at ten. his eyes have always been drawn to ten and he’s starting to realize this habit is one too hard to break so soon. 

the coach walks them through the dance steps. nerves tingle along his skin and his fingers shake as he holds his hand out for ten to grab ahold of. ten visibly hesitates. seconds tick by and ten slides his hand into sicheng’s. they both yank their hands away from the small shock their fingers generate.

silence settles heavy when the music shuts off and their soft huffs cease with it. 

“how are we supposed to get anything done if you two are going to be like this?” the coach chastises, voice disapproving of the two dancers in front of him. “the top of our class and you two are being actual fools right now. where’s the professionalism?” 

the words sting. sicheng’s gaze is stuck on the floor; he doesn’t dare look up at their coach or at ten. there’s shuffling next to him and ten sighs loud. frustrated. his duffel bag scrapes against the floor as he picks it up and slings it over his shoulder. “can we try again tomorrow? i think i just need to sleep it off.” 

ten leaves before either of them can respond, door slamming shut behind him. 

and with ten’s departure, a breath rushes out of sicheng and he feels as if he can finally breathe again. the coach shoos him off with a promise of another practice the following day. sicheng wonders for a brief moment if he should give it up and have someone else take his spot. 

but with that, sicheng would have to say goodbye to any semblance of dancing again in the future.

nobody takes well to those who quit. 

and sicheng might have devolved into a crybaby and be someone with a million broken pieces in his chest from a heart that somehow still beats. but if there is going to be one constant in his life, it will be his passion for dancing. even if it means putting up with this ridiculous tension for the next weeks to come.

sicheng exits the practice room, sucking in a deep breath of fresh air. it does nothing to calm the whirlwind of all the painful emotions inside of him. his heart feels squeezed, chest tight, and sicheng chokes on his breath, doubling over to attempt another inhale of air. he’s a fish out of water.

he buries his face into his hands, gasping for a breath that seems to evade his every attempt. he’s chasing it. chasing the freedom he wants from these wretched feelings.

a tattered map stretches across the back of the cabin. pins and notes scatter about the city and the neighboring villages. sicheng stares at it in awe, only seeing small scaled versions of the country before. yuta places a hand on his shoulder, comforting and reassuring that he’s not alone. 

the room smells of aging wine and the noisy, rowdy crowd of the tavern is muffled through the wooden floors. sicheng will admit, they’re fools for being so gullible. for following this stranger that they just met. they could have been the ones on display for all the folks to ogle and fight for. or worst even. 

“the others are out at the moment. but it does not matter right now anyway.” the stranger sits down in an armchair worn from years of use. he raises an eyebrow, cheek pressed against his palm. “they’re only worth meeting if you agree to join us.”

“and who’s us exactly?” yuta’s unimpressed. he leans against the table that’s highlighted by a lone lightbulb above it. crossing his arms, yuta’s gaze is even and leveled. but he’s tapping his foot against the floor in an uneven rhythm. he’s nervous. 

“us?” the stranger laughs. “well, let me start with myself. i’m doyoung. one could say i’m the leader of _us_.” doyoung straightens up in the chair and gestures with a short wave of his hand towards a chalkboard with scribbles all over it. sicheng peers closer, reading the words _monarch_ and _kidnapping_. “we are a small group of individuals with one goal.” 

doyoung clears his throat, drawing both of their attention to him. he props his elbows on his knees and the look in his eyes harden. there’s a flicker of a flame in them that piques sicheng’s interest. 

sicheng bites, “and that is?”

a curl of the lips, mystery tugging them up. something crashes above them and yelling and laughter mixed together follows it. the lightbulb buzzes, casting a shadow over doyoung’s face. uneasiness finds its way into sicheng’s nerves.

“to overthrow the monarchy.” 

minutes tick by. another crash. another scream.

both of them are rendered speechless. what is he doing here? what purpose lies here underneath a seedy pub? sicheng should be practicing for his performance. he should be safe and sound in his bed with the blankets tucked tight around him so he can sleep in peace.

and yet, sicheng is here. with a stranger he followed with such blind trust, sicheng’s not sure what he’s doing anymore. he looks to yuta who wears an unreadable expression, eyes trained on doyoung. the distrust rolls off of yuta in weak waves.

“you realize what that means, right?” yuta narrows his eyes. “treason if you’re caught.”

the smile slips away and doyoung rises from his spot. his gaze flicks from yuta to sicheng and then over to the chalkboard. “then we simply don’t get caught. we know our risks. but everyday is a risk.” doyoung lifts up a piece of chalk and looks at it as if examining it. and then he clutches it tight, dragging it along the board and writing the names of the ones sicheng remembers hearing at the auction. “you don’t know if you’ll be the next one bleeding out on the streets or the next one being sold for a pretty little penny.”

doyoung pauses, wiping a corner of the board clear of past scribbles, and continues writing. his hand is quick, flowing along faster than sicheng can read.

“essentially in a nutshell, we’re the ones who want to control what happens to us. we will die by our own means.”

sicheng watches jungwoo’s name form against the grainy surface. a dash is added next to it and an unknown name is scrawled out. a question mark finishes the sequence.

“what is that name?” sicheng inquires.

doyoung drops the chalk into a cup and dusts the white particles off of his hands. he tilts his head, looking over at sicheng. “the buyer.”

“how?” yuta cuts in, pushing himself off of the table to walk over to doyoung. he closes in on the other. “how do you know all of that information? they were not announcing the names of anybody there.”

“now, now. i understand all the questions and i even understand the hostility. but you’re wasting your time aiming it towards me, my friend. to receive the answers you want, i will have to swear you to secrecy. and i can only do that if you two are willing to join the cause.”

something snaps in yuta. he grabs a fistful of doyoung’s shirt and pulls him even closer. “you know where jungwoo is. that is all i care about. tell us and we won’t say anything to anybody about you and your group. or maybe i’ll just have to take care of you myself.”

“are you threatening me?” unfazed, doyoung stares yuta down.

“yuta!” throwing his arms around yuta’s waist, sicheng yanks him away from doyoung and pushes him over to the other side of the room. “calm down for a second. did you not hear what he just said? he’s not going to tell us anything unless we join.”

“he can save jungwoo, but he’s down here playing with his map and chalkboard. this isn’t a treasure hunt.”

doyoung shrugs, a pitying look tugging the corners of his eyes down. “and what makes you believe it’s simple to go on a rescue mission?”

“we kidnap them back just like they di––”

sicheng presses his palm against yuta’s mouth, quieting him, and sighs. yuta isn’t wrong with all of this distrust and hesitation and while sicheng has doubts about doyoung, sicheng doesn’t believe he’s out to get them like a knight would be. instead, there’s a stilted hope in his chest that’s blooming with each word doyoung utters. 

“we’ll join.”

yuta mumbles protests into sicheng’s hand, making it uncomfortably warm. sicheng tries to ignore it as best as he can. yuta might not see it, but sicheng has a strong belief that doyoung has answers they want and a path to freedom that sicheng is desperately seeking.

another shrug from doyoung and he ends up chuckling, “your friend doesn’t seem too keen. which like i said, i understand. it is a lot to take in, but if there are any second thoughts about me or the group you have right now, you will have to discard them. you could say you’re joining a brotherhood.”

doyoung smooths down the front of his shirt, a soft hum on his lips. an air of nonchalance as he settles back down on the armchair, arms resting along the sides. “and if either of you happen to break the trust of the brotherhood, then like yuta said before, i will have to take care of you myself.”

_come back after you’ve thought about it some more._

purple blooms ugly along his pale thigh. the ice numbs the area and the pain has long disappeared. sweat beads along his forehead, plastering his bangs against his sticky skin. sicheng leans his head back against the mirror, eyes fluttering closed from the fatigue keeping him down. 

mentally and emotionally and physically, sicheng is checked out.

the practice room is empty with only sicheng as its sole occupant. ten left the second the music ceased without a spare glance his way. sicheng’s used to it. he wishes he was immuned to the stabbing feeling it gives him, but at the end of the day, he’s not. he still trudges back to his dorm, flops onto his bed and hopes for a dream where he doesn’t feel a single thing.

the door creaks open.

“sicheng?” yuta slides down next to him, bringing the warm air with him. sicheng shivers. “you weren’t answering your phone. i figured you’d be here.”

sicheng tilts his head, digging his phone out of his bag. he presses the power button and wrinkles his nose when it doesn’t turn on. even his phone is dead. “sorry. i didn’t realize it wasn’t on.”

“it’s okay. i’m glad i was able to find you so quickly.” shaking his head with a soft laugh under his breath, yuta leans his cheek against sicheng’s shoulder. it’s been days, maybe a full week and a half, since their run-in with doyoung. sicheng left yuta to sort out his thoughts without any comments from himself, not wanting to force yuta any further than he’s comfortable going. 

“i honestly don’t know why i’m still here.”

his shrug lifts yuta’s head up just the slightest.

“you’re fine.” 

orange light filters in through the crack of the door. the sunset beckons sicheng to stand up and he holds a hand out to yuta who’s looking up at him with such drained eyes. “hey––”

yuta cuts him off, bouncing up on his feet and gripping sicheng’s hand. his grip tightens before he lets go, sucking in a deep breath before he lets it all out. it’s as if the words rush out of him, scared that he’ll take them back and never let them see the light of day. “let’s go back tonight.”

sicheng doesn’t have to ask where to know what he’s referring to. instead, sicheng eyes him warily. “are you sure?” there’s so many more questions sicheng wants to ask, but he settles on that question as the most important.

there’s no hesitation when yuta replies, “yes” and that’s all sicheng needs.

“where are you going?” 

sicheng wants to pretend he doesn’t hear that voice. he wants to pretend he wasn’t just seen trying to cross the courtyard in the middle of the night when he should be locked away in his dorm room. 

“sicheng,” it calls again. closer now. the faint crunch of the grass underneath footsteps seems to echo around him and he hurries his footsteps, practically sprinting across the path. and then the next thing he knows, he’s on the ground and a pain throbs sharp in his thigh. 

“are you _ignoring_ me?!” ten hisses in his ear, warm breath hitting along the curve.

groaning, sicheng squeezes his eyes shut and wills all the pain away. this wasn’t how his night was supposed to go. there’s a pressing weight against him from ten on top of him and _very_ unwanted thoughts rise in his mind and he groans louder, hoping ten would take that as a sign to get off of him.

because yes, he was ignoring him. aside from their practices, sicheng wants nothing to do with him. it’s all he can do to ignore the feelings away.

“fine, ignore me.”

sicheng can hear the eye roll in the shaky cadence of ten’s voice.

“you’re going to get into trouble. it’s past curfew.” this sudden care is unneeded and in response, sicheng attempts to shimmy out from underneath ten. his elbow jabs somewhere between ten’s ribs and ten lets out his own groan, rolling off of sicheng and onto the prickly grass. 

with ten’s weight off of him, sicheng gasps for air, breaths coming out long and hard. somewhat dramatic, he’ll admit that. ten attempts to knee sicheng in the side, but sicheng scoots away before ten has a chance to come in contact with him. a smile touches at his lips when he hears ten whine. 

but it vanishes in a heartbeat. he’s up on his feet, hands brushing the blades of grass off of his clothes. ten stares up at him with big eyes and sicheng used to be so good at reading what’s on ten’s mind. there are questions shining in his eyes that sicheng can’t piece together. 

sicheng swings around on his heel, a step away from running. 

“don’t go.”

“why?” his voice cracks. the only word he’s said all night and it _cracks_. the light breeze of the night does nothing too cool down his flushed cheeks. sicheng is thanking the stars that it’s dark though. 

ten’s quiet as he speaks, “you know the risks. why are you asking me why?”

it’s not the answer sicheng’s looking for, but it’s what ten gives him and sicheng knows deep down inside, ten isn’t going to give him the answer he wants anytime soon. or ever, if he’s going to be honest with himself. 

and while his heart still stings from the reality, he _needs_ to be honest.

sicheng clears his throat, his heart stuck somewhere in the middle of his words, “this is probably the most we’ve talked in a long time, ten. i’m asking you why because why are you caring now?”

“i––” ten grips sicheng’s arm, yanking him around to where their eyes lock contact and maybe sicheng can read what’s in his eyes now. “i never stopped caring. where did you get that from?”

words escape sicheng. he stares at ten, trying so hard to understand what’s going through the other’s mind. after a good couple of minutes stretch out, sicheng realizes they’re on two completely different chapters. his gaze drops to ten’s hand on his elbow and places a hand over it. ten’s fingers are cold to touch. 

“right now is really not the greatest time to be having this conversation. i have to go.” sicheng whispers, prying ten’s hand off of him. his instinct tells him to hold onto it, squeeze it to provide some warmth. sighing, sicheng lets go. 

ten blinks. “don’t go. if you do, you’ll regret it.” 

rustling sounds behind them and a light skims the courtyard. sicheng doesn’t give a second thought to what ten’s saying. he resists the desire to glance at the other. he needs to leave.

sicheng sprints the rest of the way to the exit, ten’s words following after him. there’s a tree that stands tall near the wall of the perimeter that he searches for. yuta’s already there, leaning against it with his arms crossed and a sleepy look on his face that says he needs to be in bed. 

“well, took you long enough.” yuta mutters, arms stretching out as he straightens his posture. “doyoung’s gonna think we flaked out.”

confetti cascades from the ceiling the second they step down into the basement. the door slams shut behind them, silencing the pub, though the smell of alcohol permeates in the small area they’ve walked into. sicheng wrinkles his nose at all the unknown people lined up behind doyoung.

“welcome,” echoes as they all greet sicheng and yuta.

doyoung’s arms spread out in a grand gesture, fingers wiggling. a wide grin graces his lips and all the confused, whirling feelings he had from his run-in with ten dissipates as doyoung gathers them tight in his arms. and in their place, a warmth grows and flows through his heart. 

“you guys had me worried for a second.” doyoung says as he pulls away, fingers brushing lightly along sicheng’s hairline, flicking away the confetti intertwined in the strands of his hair. “i’ll introduce you guys to everybody and then we’ll drink the night away before we really get down to business.” 

yuta eyes the bottles on the table. “we’re not of age.”

“i don’t know if you’ve noticed by our name and what we do, but we don’t really go by the rules.” someone taps their fingers along the bottles and grips the last one with a sneaky, little grin. “welcome to the rebellion.”


	3. to burn everything into ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the exit sign is a glaring red at the end of the dark tunnel.
> 
> turn around before it's too late.

sunlight glares into his blinking eyes and a pounding headache pulses along his temples. 

it’s past noon. 

his body aches when he struggles to push himself up on his bed, blanket falling to the floor. a chill runs through him with the blanket taking his body heat with it. running his fingers through his bedhead, he debates for a second whether he should just go back to bed and pretend he didn’t make a fool out of himself the prior night. 

everything is still fresh on his mind and he groans, lightly slapping his cheeks to will the thoughts away. with every breath he takes, he remembers something different about the night. 

_the bonfire. the flower tucked into ten’s ear._

he reaches for his phone.

_passing out and a hand, with a frayed ribbon wrapped around its wrist, reaching out to him._

there’s a few notifications lighting up on his homescreen, distracting him for a brief moment. he ignores the one from ten asking if he’s okay and reads the one from doyoung to meet up with the group later tonight. sicheng immediately replies that he’ll be there. 

with the seasonal performance over and done with, sicheng’s free time has opened up with no more dreaded practices cluttering up his schedule. it’s a bittersweet calm that floods through him when he realizes he won’t be seeing ten as much anymore. he tells himself that it’s fine. 

that it’s better this way. 

that there was never a chance for them to reconcile. 

a red circle marks a village not too far from the town. pictures of young boys and girls are pinned around it, the ones who ended up there. whether they’re the lucky ones or not, sicheng’s not too sure. jungwoo’s face rests at the top of the group, kindling a flame inside of sicheng everytime he looks at it.

doyoung promises, “we’ll rescue him. not only him, but the others too.”

someone whoops in the corner of the room. a lucas who sicheng has grown fond of in the recent weeks. though, lucas is a loud and boisterous fellow, there’s an air of mystery that underlies the fact that his actual name is _not_ lucas. and he won’t tell sicheng no matter how many times sicheng offers him alcohol. 

“we’re going to leave at dusk tomorrow.” doyoung’s smiling but there’s a tiredness along the curves of his cheeks that makes his smile fall short of his eyes. “make sure you guys gather your supplies together. who knows when we will be back here.” 

everybody is restless, all ready to go out into the world. sicheng has classes the next day that will last up until he has to leave with the others. yuta has already stopped attending them, spending all of his time outside of the school. for sicheng, he’s taking baby steps at prying himself away from the normality of his life. 

tomorrow, he’ll skip his very last class so he can prepare himself.

the lamp casts a wavering shadow over his paper. his handwriting is neat, writing a farewell that he’s not even sure if he will muster up enough courage to give to the receiver. 

he seals the letter with candle wax. some of it gets on his wrist, burning for a second.

flicking the cooled wax away, sicheng turns the lamp off and lets himself fall onto the bed, burrowing himself in his blanket. sleep doesn’t claim him right away. it evades him for hours until the sun’s peeking over the horizon and he’s falling asleep more out of fatigue than anything else.

months ago, sicheng would have tried to shove his whole life (which means ten) in his bag. now, he’s struggling to figure out exactly he needs. a shirt here, pants there. he tosses a toothbrush in it because that’s important, right?

when he walks out of his dorm, he only has a letter in his hand. his footsteps take him down familiar hallways and his heartbeat speeds up just a tad the closer he gets to ten’s dorm. he stops short in front of the door, hand raised to knock, but there’s mumbling and rustling on the other side and he’s suddenly frozen to the spot. 

something in sicheng compelled him to write a letter to ten. something to tie the ends on his part. even if it’s a messy way of doing it and he’s a coward and a half. and as he stands here with only a door separating him and ten, he hesitates. sicheng could disappear without a trace if he left right then and there.

there’s a drawn out groan and it’s enough for sicheng to drop the letter on the ground. he spins around on his heel and hurries away, heart skipping faster.

sicheng leaves. 

he doesn’t look back when he runs across the courtyard for possibly the last time. he continues running. down the cobblestone streets, through the crowd gathering along the markets. the pub is just opening and he files in with the future drunkards of the night. 

he shows up at the hideout empty handed. ill-prepared. 

bracing himself for a scolding, sicheng presses his lips together. doyoung shoots him an unreadable look, doesn’t say a thing, and reaches up. doyoung’s fingers are cool against his forehead as they brush along his bangs. but this time, there’s no confetti in his hair and doyoung’s hand lingers, a comforting gesture that calms sicheng’s speeding heart. 

“good job. whatever you did, good job.” 

yuta places a hand on sicheng’s shoulder, gracing him with a gentle smile. sicheng looks between the both of them and melts into their embraces. this is for the best. 

this _is_ the best. 

once the sky has darkened to the point where pale blue is a only sliver along the horizon, they set out. it’s a handful of them marching out of the pub and into the bustle of the town. lucas is with them, chatting away with someone who goes by the name of johnny. sicheng doesn’t know much of the other, but if anybody matches lucas’ energy, it’s johnny.

and then on either side of him is yuta and doyoung. sicheng wonders if they’re drawing attention like he feels they are. at this rate, they won’t be able to leave the town quietly. 

each knight they pass eyes them as if they’re up to no good. and they are. their mission is to take back all the boys and girls auctioned away. sicheng isn’t sure what will happen after, but as long as they’re all safe and sound with the five of them, they will figure it out.

first, they have to get out. 

johnny had surveyed the four gates around the town for weeks, watching and memorizing the schedules of the knights guarding the gates. dusk will not only keep them in the shadows, but it’s the best time to slip through when the knights are switching off with the night crew arriving to their station. 

the walls around the gates are too high to scale safely and someone would notice them before they reach the top. so instead, they will have to sneak through the gates at the exact moment the knights are distracted with each other. they hide around the corner of a pharmacy. the lamp in front of it has yet to be lit and sicheng hopes it stays that way until after they depart. 

doyoung’s eyes narrow at the knight standing guard. he crouches in front of them, hands bracing himself against the ground, ready to sprint when the moment arises. but it hasn’t yet. 

“how much longer, johnny?”

johnny hesitates, “it should have happened five minutes ago.” 

“what?” 

“for the past week, they have changed guards consistently on time. i don’t know why tonight is different.” the response doesn’t please doyoung. he stands up and brushes his hands against his pants, grass stains already appearing on patches of the fabric. 

“great.” doyoung presses his knuckles together and smirks, “we’re going to have to do this the hard way then. sicheng, go and walk past our friend. no need to say anything to him. just walk.” 

sicheng blinks and nods, unsure of what’s going on. but a command is a command. composing himself, sicheng takes in a few deep breaths and doyoung’s patting him on the back while yuta smooths his hair down. they’re grooming him and sicheng gets a bit of an inkling why doyoung chose him when he appears in the view of the knight.

and the knight’s eyes are glued to him.

sicheng is either too cute to ignore or he looks suspicious. with how sicheng can’t shake the feeling of being stared at off, his steps are stiff and shoulders hunched over. he’s definitely more suspicious than cute. 

before sicheng has more time to beat himself over how he _isn’t_ good at being incognito, a huge grunt sounds to his side where the knight is. the knight collapses to the ground and johnny is quick to drag him into the ditch along the wall. where the knight had just been standing, doyoung is there instead, breathing heavily with the back of a rifle raised high in his hand.

sicheng’s eyes widen at the sight and he jogs over to doyoung. “are you okay?”

doyoung blinks and a laugh bursts out of him, arm dropping to his side. “of course i am. isn’t that something you should be asking to our unconscious friend?” doyoung shoulders the rifle and his duffel bag. blood stains the ground and sicheng sucks in a breath, keeping his eyes on doyoung. “however, let’s get out of here before you get a chance to.”

a few hours go by and sicheng’s legs are burning from tripping over every single rock they pass. sicheng leans against yuta to keep both of them upright. if this keeps up, sicheng is sure he’s going to fall asleep while walking.

lucas stops all of a sudden and sicheng bumps into him, not really paying attention to where he was going. lucas reaches out to steady him and he’s chuckling, pulling sicheng away from yuta. sicheng tilts his head in question until lucas lets sicheng use him as a walking buddy instead. grateful for the change, sicheng leans into him.

faint lights come into view soon. huts take form from the lanterns and doyoung gestures towards the woods that’s to the right of the village. “we’ll rest up before continuing. we’ll need our strength.” 

as they venture through the trees, the branches scratch along sicheng’s cheeks and arms. warm blood trickles down the curve of his chin and after trying to wipe it away a handful of times, sicheng gives up on it. it’s sticky along his neck and it stings too. 

doyoung finds a small clearing and drops his stuff on top of the grass. he sends lucas and johnny out further into the woods to find some firewood. sicheng busies himself with clearing out the branches so sleeping won’t be so uncomfortable. now that night has settled and he’s walked far too long, sicheng craving sleep. 

“here, sit down.” yuta spreads out his jacket and pats it. “try to conserve some of your energy.” they slide down together and sicheng’s never felt so good from sitting down before. he presses his back against a tree and closes his eyes. the next moment he opens his eyes, there’s a small fire alight in the middle of the clearing.

everybody else around him is sound asleep. sicheng starts to close his eyes again, so ready for sleep to drag him back into relaxation. but he hears someone call out his name. 

_sicheng_. 

it’s faint and sicheng definitely thinks he’s hearing things from how tired he is. and when he hears his name again, he thinks it must be one of the others. he looks around. lucas is snoring away next to the fire with johnny by his side. yuta is resting beside him and just like before, doyoung is on his other side. 

sicheng shakes his head, pressing his palms against his eyes.

if he tries hard enough to decipher the voice, it sounds like ten. and the second that thought pops into his mind, sicheng knows he’s hallucinating.

there’s no way ten would be all the way out here. 

something flutters onto his lap, tickling along the back of his knuckles. he raises an eyebrow, turning his hand over to curl his fingers around the fabric. he lifts it up and lets the light of the fire illuminate it enough for him to see the tattered sides of a ribbon. 

it’s red against his hand, almost blending into the background fire. heat starts to bear down on him and smoke filters into the air. sicheng jerks up and reaches out to doyoung, shaking his shoulder. “doyoung, wake up! yuta!” 

the fire crackles around the trees and sicheng digs his nails in his palm, holding onto the ribbon tightly. doyoung wakes up in seconds as if he was never really asleep. he takes one look around them before he’s yanking both johnny and lucas up. yuta hurries around, gathering their stuff and one of them kicks dirt at their puny, little fire. 

“that’s not important, right now, let’s go!” doyoung yells, ushering them out of the clearing as the smoke becomes more dense. the branches are harsher this time. his scratch wounds reopen and the blood’s dripping down on the grass like a trail for the fire to follow. 

yuta stumbles, coughing as he tries to keep up. sicheng reaches out for his hand and it doesn’t really help. sicheng’s just as clumsy as he was before with sleep and panic mixing painfully together. they’re tumbling out of the woods when they see it––

the black clouds of smoke filtering into the sky above the village. 

horses neigh, kicking their hooves into the air as they line up around the edge of the village. their shadows are highlighted by the huts ablazed behind them. the armor of the knights glint ominously and in the middle of it all is the prince with his famed dimples illuminated in the dark. 

sicheng’s eyes burn from all the smoke and he’s having trouble breathing. he collapses on the ground, dragging yuta with him. they’re all on their knees, gasping for breath. and it’s kind of pitiful how they got to this point. when they’ve barely started. 

footsteps crunch against the gravel, stopping in front of sicheng.

“sicheng.”

ten’s voice. 

but it can’t be. 

“h-how?” 

“i warned you, didn’t i?” ten sits down in front of him, legs crossed, and reaches out to lift sicheng’s hand up. the ribbon flutters in the wind, catching on sicheng’s fingers. slowly, ten uncurls sicheng’s fingers. “that you’d regret it.”

ten sighs and it’s louder than the fire roaring to life. louder than the screams of the ones burning away.

“get away.” yuta hisses. “when did you turn into a monster?” yuta slaps ten’s hand away and the ribbon flies off, carried away by the wind and ashes combined. ten narrows his eyes and rises from his spot. soon, he’s flanked by the horses and the knights atop them.

“don’t blame me, yuta. i’m not the one trying to do silly things like a rescue mission. if you were planning on going against the monarchy, try to be a little more discreet next time.” 

the knights descend one by one, towering over them. doyoung tries to reach out for sicheng, but he’s kicked away, a loud groan ripping out of his throat from the force. another knight nears him, menacing eyes gazing right into his soul. 

ten holds a hand out, fingers beckoning towards his gun. “this one’s mine.” 

cold presses into the back of his neck. a click.

“this is our ending.” 

_dear ten,_

_when you read this, i will be hours away. this is my farewell to you._

_i never got a chance to tell you that i love you. and i never will. not face to face, at least. that’s something in the past now, huh? the purpose of this letter is a means to an end._

_i’m being selfish. i need this to let you go. i’m going to do something crazy and i don’t know when i’ll see you again. if i ever will see you again._

_but if you come looking for me, can you promise me one thing?_

_promise me an ending._

_your truly,_

_sicheng_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to the prompter, thank you, thank you for the lovely prompt and i really hope i was able to do it some kind of justice!
> 
> to the kindest mods for putting this fest together and allowing me to be a part of it, thank you. and to my biggest support who let me be unnecessarily dramatic at midnight, thank you.
> 
> and to you who made it all the way to the end of this fic, thank you so much for reading.


End file.
